


Snippets & Six-pounders

by OurLadyofPerpetualWallflowers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Marking, Random & Short, Snippets, from tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-07-20 18:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurLadyofPerpetualWallflowers/pseuds/OurLadyofPerpetualWallflowers
Summary: A place to cross-post all my scribbling from tumblr in one easy access place. Mainly fic snippets but maybe some headcanons. Who knows? I just make the words go and click the buttons, I'm not in charge here.





	1. Mark Me Down for Forever with You

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from tumblr. 
> 
> I wrote this literally in the back of my appointment book when the picture of Steve on the basketball court was going on, all attention on his thighs, and just now found it again.

Billy’s never really cared all that much before but ever since this thing with Steve started, it’s gotten under his skin like a splinter-how careful they have to be. The way Steve fists his hands in the sheets to avoid scratching up his back. How Billy has to turn his head to stop himself from sucking and biting bruises onto Steve’s neck, back, chest, hips.

Looking at him now, passed out and unmarked in his bed as Billy gets dressed, it dogs at him. Bad enough they have to plan their time together like a military exercise, have to sneak around in the dead of night like criminals, but beyond all that…they have to be so aware all the time, so conscious, never able to give themselves over to the moment, to the rushed passion of what’s between them. It drives Billy a little insane.

That’s what he’s thinking as he pulls on his boots at 2 in the morning, taking in Steve sprawled shamelessly on his stomach, one leg drawn up to reveal a stretch of creamy inner thigh. Billy can’t help it.

He kneels by the side of the bed and gently shifts the covers to give him more room. Steve gums in his sleep at the first brush of skin on skin and Billy presses his smile at Steve’s thigh in a random series of kisses interspersed with Billy nuzzling the lax muscles beneath him like an overgrown housecat.

He places a few final kisses to the back of Steve’s leg, trailing down to the sensitive spot on the back of his knee. He reluctantly stands and takes a look at his handiwork.

A patch of pink flesh stands out in the dim light, innocent looking enough to be passed off as irritation from jeans or something but Billy will know.

Know that Steve will think of him with every step, will feel the faint reminder like the brush of Billy’s hand, in a spot only a lover could reach.

It’s enough for now.


	2. Fic I'll Never Write: Hotel California

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm the kind of writer who easily comes up with like, scenes and then writes them but lacks a place to stick them. I started posting them over on tumblr under the heading of Fic I'll Never Write which is a misnomer because I might get back to them someday but anyway. 
> 
> The set up for this one is that Billy somehow gets pulled into the Upside Down and the gang all think he’s dead until Steve starts getting messages that Billy might not be as dead as they all assume.

The living room looked forebodingly empty in the dark, every shadow holding a menace, and Steve couldn’t reach the light switch fast enough. The lamp by the couch clicked on and revealed…nothing.

“Okay. Okay. Is there anybody in here…hello?” Steve trailed off, feeling like an idiot and ignoring the part of his brain that wanted to ask if a particular somebody was there. Minutes crawled by and there were no more strange lights flickering or sounds like someone breathing down his neck. He relaxed his grip on the bat and dragged a hand over his face. “I’m losing it. Shit.” He turned to head back upstairs only for the radio to suddenly click on, a burst of static followed by a weak signal that took a moment to become clear enough for Steve to make out the words.

_“…such a lovely place  
such a lovely face…”_

Steve gulped and reached out a shaking hand to turn the radio off. “That is completely not freaky at all. Probably a power surge. Annnd I’m talking to myself.” He took another step towards the stairs only to stop short as with another burst of static the radio blared back to life, lyrics pouring out clearer, like the signal had gotten stronger.

_“…still those voices are calling from far away_  
Wake you up in the middle of the night  
Just to hear them say…” 

Steve moved without thought this time, yanking the radio off the table and unplugging it. He felt another cold breeze of air over his face and he jerked backwards, landing on his ass with the radio still clutched in his hands as it somehow continue playing without any electricity.

_“…Welcome to the Hotel California_

_Such a lovely place  
Such a lovely place_

_Such a lovely face_

_They living it up at the Hotel California_

_What a nice surprise  
What a nice surprise_

_Bring your alibis…”_

“Oh god.” Steve stared at the radio dial, his heart pounding and a sinking feeling flooding his body with dread. This was way too similar what Dustin said Will did when he tried to reach his mom from…from the Upside Down. And to Steve’s knowledge there was only one person who might try and contact him through a song, a song about California. 

“Oh my god…Hargrove?” The radio increased, words echoing in the basement as Steve tried to breathe. Suddenly there was a thump from the wall directly in front of him and Steve watched as the brick seemed to stretch and move towards him, like someone-something-was pushing on it from the other side.

“…Hargrove?”

_“…last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before…”_

A brick cracked and tumbled to the ground at his feet and Steve was suddenly scrambling backwards, dragging the radio towards the bat he’d left on the ground by the stairs as an inhuman growling filled the room and the wall continue to move, shapes like clawed hands barely visible behind the surface. Suddenly there was a tremendous screech, like an animal in pain and the wall snapped back into place like it had never been anything else. Steve sat there, panting and staring at the innocent looking brick, one whispered word leaving his mouth as the radio played on. “Billy?”

_“…you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.”_


	3. The Saga of Billy the Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another except from tumblr, this one might actually get expanded on someday. The set up for this one is that Susan snaps and kills Neil and Billy had to take guardianship of Max. This scene features the aftermath at the police station where Billy gets to show he's not the worst guy after all.

“I want to see my mom.” Max was fighting back tears, shaking in rage as she glared at Hopper.

“Kid, I can’t let you do that, you’re a minor.”

“She’s my mom!”

“Look, I-” Hopper broke off as the door to the office opened, Billy and the social worker stepping out, both looking inordinately tired. Billy assessed the group, lingering on Max with an unreadable expression before turning to the woman beside him.

“Those papers good right away?” The woman glared and Steve got the impression that Billy’s charm hadn’t lasted long behind closed doors.

“Yes.”

Billy nodded and turned away, dismissing her to address Hopper.

“Let her see her mom.” Hopper sighed.

“Minors need-”

“Permission from a parent or guardian, I heard.” Billy cut in. “I’m her guardian and I said to let her see her mom, for god’s sake.”

“You have to go with her.” Hopper said in a warning tone. Billy snorted and made himself a cup of coffee with a ridiculous amount of cream and sugar.

“We both know the entire collection of Cabbage Patch Kids over there are coming but yeah, I kinda figured.” He gestured to the holding cells and Hopper led the way.

Susan looked frail in the cell, legs drawn up and jacket held tightly around her. She began quietly crying when she saw Max but made no move to approach the bars. Max, for all the fight she’d shown in the bullpen, was equally quiet, her hands held tightly by Lucas and Will, Dustin’s hands tight on her shoulders. Billy however, walked easily up to the cell door and held up the cup he was carrying.

“Here. Cream and sugar with some coffee in it, right?”

Susan made a broken sound but haltingly stood and took the cup, wrapping her hands around the warmth. No one spoke for a minute. Billy sighed loudly and turned to lean back against the bars, head tilted back to gaze at the ceiling.

“Fuck, Susan, that was so stupid.”

Susan finally took a sip of coffee and when she spoke, her voice was hoarse.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t-” She took a deep breath, stepping a tiny bit closer to Billy, cradling the coffee cup to her chest. “I just couldn’t take it anymore, I wasn’t strong enough.” She wiped at her face, careful to avoid the bruise around her cheekbone. “Not like you.” She whispered like an afterthought.

Billy’s eyes closed and he shook his head.

“At least you did something about it. Hell of a lot more than I ever did.”

Susan hesitantly reached out, hand stopping just shy of Billy’s shoulder.

“Will you-Will you take care of-” She broke off, seemingly unable to continue. Billy looked at her, somehow intense and defiant and kind all at once.

“Of Max? Yeah.” He straightened, reaching to lightly grip her wrist and closing the gap between the two of them. “Yeah. Jesus, Susan, she’s my sister, of course I’m gonna take care of her.”


	4. Prompt response: Pet play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Received as a prompt replay on ye old tumblr. 
> 
> Original notes: This is kinda out of my kink zone so I had to research it. I’m blaming my search history on you people. I wrote this whole thing and then realized that I didn’t write a single line of smut which is the whole point so I went back and added it.
> 
> I dunno what exactly this is other than solid proof that I can’t write smut without making it ridiculously introspective. I should probably stop trying, lol.

Steve had always wanted a dog. Always. He remembers being five and painstakingly writing out his letter to Santa a full month early, checking and double-checking the letters to make sure they were facing the right way because he couldn’t always tell and his father got so mad when the letters were wrong. What if Santa got mad at backwards letters too? He’d even snuck it in his bag to school and shyly asked his favorite teacher Mr. Kyle, whose big smile was always full of happiness and warmth, to look it over.

The teacher had read it carefully with him during recess, strong fingers tracing the words alongside Steve’s tiny pudgy ones, before he had squeezed Steve’s shoulder gently and told him it was perfect.

Mr. Kyle had listened patiently as Steve talked about what his puppy would be like and how hard he would work to take good care of it and he had answered all his questions about what puppies ate and how they liked to play and if they would mind it if sometimes Steve gave them a hug just because he wanted to. Mr. Kyle had smiled at that and squeezed Steve’s shoulder again and told him that what puppies needed the most was lots and lots of love.

Steve had barely slept the night of Christmas, head full of dreams about the puppy he was sure would be under the tree the next morning. He didn’t care if it was a boy puppy or a girl puppy but he hoped it would have yellow hair and bright blue eyes, just like Mr. Kyle. Even if it didn’t, he’d still love it more than anything in the world. It would sleep on his bed and wait for him to come home from school so they could play and it would keep him company when his parents had to leave on their business trips so he wouldn’t feel so scared and alone in their big house.

The next morning, Steve opened sweaters and shoes and a box of new pencils and a framed photo of his parents in front of a tower in France, his heart breaking with each package. A few tears slipped out and his mother had asked him what was the matter? Didn’t he like his presents? He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way she had laughed lightly, cocktail in hand, when she carelessly told him that of course Santa wasn’t real! His letter had gone straight to his father’s desk and his parents knew he’d never be able to take care of a puppy properly let alone keep one from making a mess of the house.

An insistent whine broke him out of his thoughts and Steve shook his head, fingers fidgeting with the thick leather in his hands. He looked at the figure before him and smiled gently.

“Somebody’s impatient, huh? Such an eager puppy today.”

Puppy whined again, low in his throat, and shifted on his hands and knees to get closer to where Steve sat on the bed. He was naked, clothes carefully folded in the bathroom where Steve had said to leave them for the weekend, tan skin flushed with excitement. It was killing him, Steve knew, to be in his puppy headspace without his collar on. Well, it wasn’t really a collar. Just an old belt of Steve’s that they had made work while they figured this thing out. It was fine really, got the job done but…Steve had a surprise.

Billy had been so hesitant about this, about wanting to do this for Steve even though there was no chance that he’d have turned down the opportunity to have the whole long weekend for just him and his pretty puppy. Billy was so good to him and Steve had wanted to give him something just as special in return.

“Easy, boy. I’ve got you.” Steve ran a hand along Puppy’s flank as he stood and crossed to his desk, shoving aside homework and a gift from Dustin to dig out the fancy box with the gold stenciling. He’d driven to Chicago weeks ago to find the right one, then had to wait and drive back again last Saturday to pick up the finished piece. The man at the shop had been impressed at his willingness to pay for quality, had tried to inquire about the breed and lineage of Steve’s animal. Steve had played dumb and ignored him, only conceding agreement when the man had remarked that it must be a valuable stud to warrant such expense.

Steve turned and looked Puppy over again. Strong muscles on display, golden curls loosely braided back from his sharply angled face. He stood solidly on the floor on all fours, back arched just enough to emphasise the swell of his backside and the thickness of his thighs. Between his legs his cock hung, half-full and flushed a rosy pink, the black ring snug around the base. Yeah, his Puppy was a stud, all right. He trembled slightly, whine still coming out intermittently, but Steve knew it was excitement that caused it rather than fear.

When he was Billy, that tremor would be accompanied with eye rolls and sighs and him telling Steve to “Get the fuck on with it already” but when he was Puppy, well. Puppies couldn’t talk. They didn’t have to pretend to be big and bad or to chase girls or think cuddles and kisses were lame. Puppies did whatever they felt like, whatever their owners told them to. All he had do was wait, patient and steady, as Steve took care of him.

And he took very good care of his puppy.

“I’ve got a present for you.” He singsonged as he made his way back to the bed, box in hand. He sat cross-legged and patted the space next to him gently.

“Come on, boy. Hop up.” Puppy hesitated, eyeing the height of the bed from where he stood. Steve patted the cover again, encouraging him. “You can do it, Puppy. Up.”

Puppy clambered up onto the bed, long legs scrambling a bit as they tried to climb in the unfamiliar way, but he made it, sitting proudly in front of Steve who laughed and stroked his head.

“See? I knew you could do it! Good boy!”

Puppy leaned forward and licked Steve’s cheek messily, tongue slipping a bit to catch the corner of his mouth and setting off another round of Steve’s laughter.

“Okay, okay, calm down so you can have your present!” Steve held up the box and Puppy jumped at him, paws batting at the box as he whined again. “Hey, easy, easy! Down!” Steve commanded and Puppy obeyed instantly, dropping to his belly on the bed, head resting between his paws as his big blue eyes pleaded with Steve to forgive him.

“That’s my good boy, hmm?” Steve stroked his head once more and gently opened the box, tilting it so Puppy could see what was inside.

A braided leather collar sat on a velvet cushion. Three strands of black, tan, and golden brown interwoven and connected with a sturdy gold clasp. A ring hung from it as well, with a round tag covered in delicate engraving. There was no way to adjust the size, no way to doubt that this was anything but a custom piece, designed to fit precisely one neck and fit it perfectly. Steve watched anxiously as Puppy slowly reached out his head and sniffed at the leather, nudging the box to get a better look.

“You wanna put it on?” Steve asked hopefully, worry starting to seep in. Puppy crawled closer, working himself into Steve’s lap and butting his head against his chest, eyes darting from the box to Steve and back again. Steve felt a wave of relief go through him.

“Yeah? Okay, lemme just…” He carefully lifted out the collar and undid the clasp before looping it around Puppy’s neck and fastening it closed. It fit perfectly, leather resting snugly against his skin but loose enough that Steve could fit a finger beneath it. He turned it, arranging it so that the gold tag rested precisely in the hollow of Puppy’s throat.

Steve swallowed and gently stroked Puppy’s back, fingers running down his spine to the small of his back and then reversing up to where the collar rested against his neck. His voice, when he finally spoke, was thick with emotion.

“Do you like your new collar?” He asked softly, a bit of the real world creeping in. “It suits you.” He added, because it was true. The oiled leather was rich and supple, an exact replica of Billy’s muscles when his lover moved. Three strands, like what Steve thought of as the three sides to Billy; the raw, angry side-so full of hurt and fear. The gentle, loving side-carefully hidden away but so strong. And the vulnerable side, even more hidden and only just allowed out to play with Steve in moments like this, moments when Billy felt safe and cared for.

Puppy moved again, shifting until he could nuzzle his nose into the space between Steve’s jaw and his shoulder. He took in a deep breath, scenting Steve heavily as he curled himself impossibly small in Steve’s lap, legs hanging off the side of the bed as he pressed as much skin to Steve’s as he could.

Steve let him, rubbing his palms over firm muscles, letting his hands move across soft skin still damp from his bath before. He stroked all of Puppy’s favorite spots; the bend of his neck where it met his shoulder, the narrowing of his waist above his hips, the flat plain of his thigh.

Puppy squirmed a bit more, wiggling to roll onto his back as best he could, big eyes looking hopefully up at Steve who chuckled at him.

“Somebody want me to rub their belly?” He didn’t make his puppy wait, one big hand slowly rubbing circles on the ever so slightly furred skin beneath his belly button. He ran his fingers up Puppy’s chest, flicking tight brown nipples before returning to the trail of hair and dipping lower.

He let the pads of his fingers brush the tip of Puppy’s cock, smearing the precum gathered there down the length of the thick vein. Puppy’s hips jerked upwards and he whimpered but no words left his mouth.

“Good boy. You wanna come? Hmm? Gonna make a mess?” Steve gripped his cock and began to stroke, squeezing at the now purple tip and twisting at the base. “Puppies are good are making messes. That’s why they need their owners, right? To clean up after them and teach them how to behave.”

Steve’s hand moved faster, his eyes roving over the figure sprawled in his lap, drinking in the sight. Puppy’s legs twitched slightly, and the whimpers increased to an almost constant whine from the back of his throat. “Come on, howl for me,” Steve murmured, hand moving quickly over the slick skin, breath coming harsh. “You can do it, I know you can.”

Puppy’s hips bucked again, body convulsing as the cock ring kept his orgasm just out of reach even as Steve pushed him higher and higher into pleasure.

Finally, he broke and tilted his head back let out a long low keening wail, as close to a howl as he had ever come. Steve’s stomach tightened as his own arousal tipped over into ecstasy, his cock spilling in his sweats and eyes closing as he trembled.

He came back to himself quickly though, all too aware of the twisting body of his Puppy waiting patiently for him, the throbbing cock still in his grip. Steve leaned forward quickly to drop a kiss on the swollen head before he began stroking again.

“Such a good puppy for me. You behave so beautifully, I think you’ve earned your treat.” Steve gave a final pump of his hand and then quickly released the black ring at the base of his cock.

Puppy keened again, hips jerking as thick white ropes shot over his belly, making a mess of himself. Steve stroked him through it, ringing out the last drops of cum before he ran his hand up and down Puppy’s skin, letting him come down, gathering a palm full of sticky fluid.

“You made such a big mess, Puppy.” Steve scolded playfully. “You better clean it up.”

He brought his hand to Puppy’s mouth, eyebrows raised until a pink tongue appeared and began to lick the cum from his fingers.

“That’s it. Puppies need to eat all their treats to grow big and strong.” He carefully gathered up every drop of cum from his puppy’s belly and fed it to him patiently, encouraging him to clean it all from his hand.

“All done!” Steve praised him as the last traces of white were sucked from his fingers. “Such a good boy for me, Puppy.” Steve let him shift to a more comfortable position on his lap, scratching behind his ear a bit to help him settle before letting his attention turn back to the gorgeous collar around his throat.

“You know what the tag says?” Steve whispered, fingers finding the edge of the gold charm and tracing the engraving. Puppy gently nipped at his jaw in reply.

“This side says ‘Puppy’. And this side says,” He leaned closer, putting his lips right against Puppy’s ear.

“‘If lost, please return to Steve Harrington.’”

Puppy made a soft sound then, a choked off whimper as he buried his face in Steve’s neck and cried.

“Shh, shh, Puppy.” Steve soothed him, stroking over every bit of him he could reach, rocking slightly in place. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything bad happen to my puppy, my good boy. I love my puppy so much. I’m always gonna take care of you and look after you.”

Puppy nuzzled at Steve’s face a bit desperately, and Steve felt like it was only fair to let him lick into his mouth, to cup the back of his head and let him settle there, safe in Steve’s arms.

“Merry Christmas, Billy.”


End file.
